


Lessons

by FreeShavocadoo



Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: A Journey Of Self Discovery, Fluff, Hyuga is just tired tbh, M/M, Multi, unwilling gay dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-07 18:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Murayama ponders, Hyuga listens (unwillingly) and Ranmaru surprises everyone.





	1. Chapter 1

Hyuga wasn’t entirely sure when it became a prerequisite for Murayama to visit him with any problems he was having. It was like the kid was starved of any attention or advice, not that this would explain anything. Hyuga couldn’t help but think Murayama was just bored. He always strolled into the Daruma temple, whining about minor issues he was having in his day, as though Hyuga cared. He’d smoke his pipe, lie down and just let Murayama speak until he was finished.

It wasn’t until Kato had offhandedly mentioned their similarities that Hyuga realised Murayama was clearly just learning at the foot of the master.

_“Don’t you see it?” Kato snorts, rolling his eyes at the frustrated look on Hyuga’s face. “You’ve practically adopted him.”_

_“What the hell are you talking about?” Hyuga snaps, irritated and tired. Murayama carried on interrupting his naps and it was getting to the point where he could no longer hide his irritation. He’d noticed how his guys steered clear of him now, clearly aware it was better to hide than have their ears bitten off. Kato naturally had no self-preservation instincts. Hyuga supposes this is why he’s with Daruma in the first place._

_“You don’t see it? Shit,” Kato laughs obnoxiously, slapping his knees, “he’s coming to you for advice because he’s not got anyone else, dumbass.”_

_Hyuga narrows his eyes, fully aware that Kato is the only person he would ever let call him ‘batshit crazy’, which is probably why he takes advantage of Hyuga’s weakness and sets him straight as soon as he has the chance._

_“He’s like the rest of those kids at Oya high.” Hyuga scoffs, completely opposing the concept of being viewed as a reliable figure for Murayama. It’s not that there was anything wrong with the kid, he was just too whiny and soft. Like some kind of stray dog._

_“Nah, he isn’t. Haven’t you noticed that the guys let him right in here without question? They look at him and see you.” Kato stares pointedly at Hyuga, nudging his cheek. “The kid literally bites and scratches in fights, not to mention he literally got punched 100 times and decided that it was a good opportunity to start punching them back.”_

_“Oh, fuck off.”_

He wonders if its really annoyance that he’s feeling every time Murayama now walks into his room. Hyuga can’t help but be aware that he’s slightly concerned- after all, he’s never been responsible for anything substantial in his life. Daruma could run itself without him sufficiently, Kato saw to that. Hell, he barely even managed to feed himself properly, preferring to sleep the days away. Maybe it’s the prospect of Murayama _trying_ to be like him. Not that Hyuga thinks he would, but that would just be a catalyst for shitty behaviour and tragedy. The kid had probably been concussed since birth.

“Yo, Hyuga-chan.” Murayama greets him, just strolling into the room in a way that automatically rubbed Hyuga the wrong way. As if he had the nerve to walk around like it was his own room, like he owned it. Hyuga ought to kick him out. Literally.

“What do you want?” Hyuga makes no attempt to mask his irritation, lay resting his head on his hand with narrowed eyes. He really needed to start telling his guys not to let Murayama in. Especially in the golden hours of his nap time in the afternoon.

“Nothing much,” Murayama sits in front of the stationary Hyuga, deciding he should lie down as well for some reason, “I just wanted to talk.”

Hyuga snorts, staring at the kid in front of him. He can’t help but be suddenly aware of just how _young_ Murayama looks. Given the people SWORD had been fighting the past few months, Hyuga is sure he’s not the only one who’s momentarily forgotten just how young their youngest sword leader actually is.

“About what, exactly?” Hyuga’s eyes narrow as Murayama rolls on his back and whines softly, running a hand through his haphazard hair before looking back over at Hyuga.

“Well, I-, “

Before Murayama can tell Hyuga exactly what it is that is vexing him so much, the door opens again. Hyuga is resolute now that he definitely needs a lock that only he and Kato have the capability of opening putting on that God-forsaken door.

“Yo, Hyuga.” The voice makes Hyuga’s head lift momentarily, as startled as he could possibly look considering how lethargic he usually feels. Ranmaru prowls in, taking in his surroundings and staring pointedly at Murayama before seating himself on the only couch in the room comfortably, leg crossed over. Hyuga notes that Ranmaru’s fur is different this time- less of the burnt copper colour it was previously and more a deep, ruby red. He likes it.

“Great. What do **you** want?” Hyuga growls, lying his head back on the floor and scowling. Hyuga knew it wouldn’t be long before Ranmaru showed his face again- people would naturally assume that Hyuga and Ranmaru had fractured whatever friendship they’d had after the spectacle between Doubt and the rest of SWORD, but Hyuga knows that there isn’t a soul in the world that probably understood the symbiosis he had with the man seated so comfortably in his room.

“I wasn’t aware I needed a reason to see you.” Ranmaru lazily flickers his eyes over to Hyuga, flashing him a slight grin before his face relaxes yet again, his eyes hovering over Murayama, who seems surprisingly unconcerned about his presence.

 _Great_. Hyuga thinks, _this is just making it even clearer that he’s too comfortable around me_.

“Anyway. As I was saying.” Murayama continues, Hyuga resisting the urge to laugh at the look Ranmaru flashes towards him, a combination of disbelief and moderate amusement. Of course, there was also always the underlying emotion of fury with Ranmaru, but that tended to be indiscriminate of the situation.

“How do you confess to someone?” Murayama whines, tipping his head backwards with a soft groan.

Ranmaru chuckles softly before breaking down into hysterical laughter, hiding his face behind his arm as he shook violently. Hyuga could barely even comprehend what he’d just been asked, sitting up so suddenly his vision was momentarily blurred. He knew now that there was no dissuading Murayama from talking to him ever again if the kid had the balls and/or stupidity to come here and ask him _this_ in front of _Ranmaru_ of all people.

“Why the fuck are you asking **me** this?” Hyuga spits, lighting his pipe in an attempt to calm his nerves, Ranmaru’s eyes catching contact with his momentarily. Ranmaru just simply pats beside himself on the couch softly, staring holes into Hyuga’s head. Hyuga obliges simply because it’s easier than ignoring a request from Ranmaru, moving himself to the other side of the room and flopping down beside Ranmaru, consciously aware of how little room there was beside him when he’s wearing his fur coat. Not that Ranmaru would let there be any space between them anyway.

Murayama watches like a hawk, turning his head to stare fully at the pair of them sitting on the couch together. He smiles deviously, reminding Hyuga momentarily of a stray cat he’d once took pity on that always attacked people who’d let their guard down after small displays of affection.

“Well…. I mean. Didn’t one of you two confess to each-other?” Murayama tilts his head questioningly, looking back and forth between Ranmaru and Hyuga curiously.

“Not exactly.” Ranmaru replies softly, side-glancing Hyuga who looked more troubled by the second, stroking his hair affectionately. Hyuga relaxes into the touch, taking the opportunity to curl up into Ranmaru’s side comfortably, revelling in the way Ranmaru’s arm slips behind his head to support it without so much as a pause.

“Well then. How does this- ,” Murayama gestures wildly between them both, “work, exactly?”

Ranmaru stares thoughtfully, genuinely considering the question at hand. He supposes people of Murayama’s age are so hung up on rejection that they feel they need to verbalise everything, a sentiment he couldn’t relate to, especially regarding his feelings for Hyuga.

“It’s different for everyone.” Ranmaru smirks, tickling Hyuga’s chin until his hand was angrily swatted away. “We found one another when we needed someone. It’s as simple as that.”

“No offense, Hayashi-san, but that’s so vague it’s not remotely helpful.” Murayama scoffs, resting his chin on his knee as he stares at the two men in front of him, shuffling into a seated position adjacent to the couch. Ranmaru can’t help but feel suddenly aware of the likeness to a toddler sitting in front of their parents, Hyuga’s quietness now making more sense to Ranmaru. Hyuga has always struggled with affection in any of his relationships, platonic or otherwise. Ranmaru knows he’s probably staying quiet to avoid snapping at Murayama because he just doesn’t understand why Murayama trusts him the way he does.

“Ranmaru.” He corrects Murayama, resenting the formalities. “I never said I’d be helpful, brat.” He leans back into the couch, wondering in which universe he happens to be in where he is considered not only the more responsible adult but also one who can give good relationship advice.

“Well then **be** helpful, Ranmaru-san,” Murayama sing-songs, shuffling even closer to the couch to stare up at Ranmaru with burning curiosity, “how would you confess to someone if you HAD to?”

Hyuga’s head turns slightly towards Ranmaru’s neck, Ranmaru not surprised in the least that Hyuga hadn’t been sleeping this entire time but had instead been pretending just to ensure he didn’t have to partake in this conversation. Ranmaru decides he’ll humour them both.

“Well, I guess I’d have to go all out.” He begins, yanking his arm from under Hyuga’s head, much to Hyuga’s fury. “There’s no point half-assing it if you mean it, no?” He glances back at Murayama before placing his eyes directly upon Hyuga.

“You’re probably the romantic type, right?” He questions Murayama, who nods thoughtfully in response. “Well, is the object of your affection also a romantic type?”

“I don’t know,” Murayama whines again, “I guess. Probably. Hey, Hyuga-chan, do you think Cobra-chan is the romantic type?”

Hyuga glares from his corner of the couch, much to Ranmaru’s amusement. “How the hell should I know? He’s probably into soppy shit, yeah.”

Ranmaru smiles briefly, eyes still unmovable from their resting position on Hyuga. “Well then you should probably take him out somewhere nice. If you can afford it.” Hyuga snorts again, giving an exasperated look.

“Like where?”

“You are aware I spent a long time in prison, aren’t you?” Ranmaru replies dryly, “Besides. My man isn’t the romantic type.”

Hyuga’s breath hitches slightly, his chest tightening momentarily. _My man_. Hyuga isn’t sure why that means as much to him as it does. Maybe it’s because they’ve never actually spoken about this before, preferring instead to keep whatever it is that they have going without any labels or false pretences. He does find it hilarious, however, that Murayama is the source of this revelation, all because he can’t just confess to somebody like a normal person.

He knows that Ranmaru is attempting to lead the conversation because he’s unwilling to, never able to gauge the right amount of any emotion to deal with the prospect that someone truly cares about him. Revenge had really taken it out of him.

“Right. But how do I actually **tell** him, though? Without sounding like an asshole, I mean.” Murayama inquires, lying back down on his back with a gentle sigh.

“You tell him however the fuck you feel comfortable telling him,” Ranmaru drawls, “if it’s not genuine for you, chances are it won’t be for him. Don’t try to be someone or something you’re not.”

Hyuga hides a smile into Ranmaru’s shoulder, hating the thought of Murayama being given a reason to assume he’s soft. Even if it is true when regarding Ranmaru. Hyuga almost finds it hilarious that Ranmaru, who has spent the majority of his adolescence and adult life so far in some form of solitary confinement, is better with advice than he is. Even more so when including Ranmaru’s reputation.

Hyuga can still remember the first morning they spent together after Ranmaru’s first unexpected visit.

 

_“Your elbow is digging into me, asshole.” Ranmaru growls, trying to detangle himself from Hyuga who was currently wrapped around him like a snake, tightening his grip every time he was almost pushed away._

_“Mmmf.” He gets in response, a hand being shoved into his face violently, the leg that Hyuga has draped over Ranmaru’s lap suddenly coiling around his waist tightly. “Stop. Fucking. Moving.” Hyuga hisses, but moves his elbow all the same._

_“So you don’t want me to move then?” Ranmaru whispers into his ear, biting it. Hyuga growls, moving his chin up to look at Ranmaru’s smug expression. “So that means… you don’t want me to leave?” Ranmaru teases him further, his eyes too intense for Hyuga to even dare to look away from._

_“No. I don’t,” Hyuga huffs, relaxing back down onto Ranmaru’s bare chest and marvelling at all of the scars and bruises under his wandering fingertips, placing a small kiss on Ranmaru’s collarbone near a particularly jagged scar, “so you better not fucking leave me.”_

_“I doubt I could even if I wanted to.” Ranmaru replies._

Murayama jumps to his feet suddenly, Hyuga twitching slightly at the sudden movement, staring inquiringly at Murayama.

“Well, I guess I might as well get it out of the way then,” He sings, leaning down to kiss Hyuga’s cheek mockingly, “thanks for nothing, Hyuga-chan.”

Hyuga resists the urge to knock Murayama’s head from his shoulders for the insolence, but then remembers that this is probably the type of behaviour that a father would display with their son- if the father was a raging psychopath and his son was a gay delinquent. He stops himself from shuddering.

Ranmaru makes a tutting noise, waving his hand towards himself in the direction of Murayama, who stares questioningly but shuffles towards Ranmaru anyway. Ranmaru continues to gesture until Murayama is practically so close to the couch his toes are touching the bottom of it, leaning down as per Ranmaru’s request.

“And where, exactly, is my goodbye kiss?” He grins like a shark, tapping his cheek with his index finger slowly. Murayama opens his mouth as though to say something but closes it instantly, staring at Hyuga as though expecting an explanation. Hyuga feels like laughing- it’s like Murayama forgets who he’s interacting with. Ranmaru loves to get a reaction out of people and he’s hardly a conformist.

Murayama leans down and kisses Ranmaru’s cheek hesitantly, leaning back slowly to await Ranmaru’s reaction. Ranmaru just ruffles his hair, patting his cheek in a way that definitely wasn’t gentle. Murayama just smiles to himself, humming softly as he walks out, the sound echoing until he slams the door shut behind him.

“Great. Now you’ve encouraged him.” Hyuga groans, kicking Ranmaru violently, getting even angrier when Ranmaru just smirks at him knowingly.

“Yeah. _I_ encouraged him,” he runs his thumb across Hyuga’s cheek, leaning in to kiss him aggressively, all tongue and teeth and breathlessness, “not as if you could’ve told him to leave at anytime.”

“I’m clearly not good at knowing when to tell people to fuck off, otherwise you wouldn’t still be here.” Hyuga bites Ranmaru’s finger, whilst Ranmaru barely flinches at the contact, choosing instead to bite Hyuga’s bottom lip.

“You’re the one who told me to stay.”


	2. No experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murayama decides it's time to make a move.

Murayama felt like he was about to explode in a glorious display of nerves, shifting foot to foot as he stood in front of Itokan. Part of him wondered if this was a fruitless endeavour before he realised that most of the things he did were considered by the average person to be a waste of time, which had never much concerned him before. But this was different- getting punched in the face repeatedly for Murayama was much easier than facing the prospect of talking about his feelings. Especially to Cobra.

He didn’t even know where to start with Cobra. He’d heard so much about the leader of Sannoh Rengokai before he’d even laid eyes on the man, upon which began his downward spiral. Not one soul had told him just how _pretty_ Cobra-chan was. He was as radiant as the sun and Murayama would be lying if he said it hadn’t felt like he was fighting a losing battle before he’d even landed his first punch on Cobra. He could see without a doubt why people followed Cobra so easily and he just wanted to be _that_ person to Oya high so badly. It wasn’t just a physical attraction, although there was no denying that Murayama had never seen anyone quite as beautiful as Cobra, but also undying admiration. Murayama had been swinging his fists and landing his punches for so long he’d forgotten what he was fighting for or why he was fighting at all, until Cobra.

How exactly was he expected to say _any_ of that to Cobra’s face?

“Is there a reason you’re standing here?” The voice startled Murayama out of his reverie, turning to see the inquisitive face of Chiharu standing beside him.

Murayama found it amusing that he wanted to simultaneously thank and punch Chiharu. After all, the little brat’s feud with Furuya was what had started his decent into a lovelorn puppy. Even worse still, here he was ready to pull his hair out at the prospect of standing before Cobra and yet Chiharu got to do it every single day and even have Cobra fight on his behalf _for_ him. Murayama would be lying if he said it didn’t make him insanely jealous.

“Maybe I was hungry,” Murayama smiles suspiciously, “am I not allowed to eat here or something?”

Chiharu shrugs slightly, simply opening the door to Itokan with a moderately suspicious look on his face. “Wouldn’t be up to me if you could or couldn’t.”

Murayama sidesteps past Chiharu into Itokan, now resolute that he can hardly run off in front of Chiharu. What was it that Seki always screamed before undoubtedly getting knocked out? _Death before dishonour._ Murayama sniggers to himself fondly, glad he didn’t mention his whereabouts this morning to Furuya, who would definitely have followed him. Of course, when Murayama casually said he was going to the Daruma temple this morning, nobody was any the wiser since he practically went every other day. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Chiharu thankfully shuts the door behind Murayama and disappears into the distance, clearly he’d exited moments before Murayama had decided to stand in front of Itokan.

All of a sudden it felt like his head was full of cotton, his eyes landing on Cobra sitting quietly by himself in his usual spot reading. Murayama resisted every urge to either turn around and leave or start shouting at the top of his lungs for Cobra to fight him. Both were defence mechanisms that rarely benefited him. Cobra’s eyes flicker up slowly, greeting Murayama with the usual eyebrow raise and nod in his direction, before looking back down at his book.

Naomi lets Murayama peruse the menu for a few minutes before he tells her politely he just wants a drink, even if he’s eaten here plenty of times before. He’d started that a long time ago, even bringing Todoroki on more than one occasion. Murayama liked that Todoroki always got so distracted by Murayama’s juvenile teasing and bossy behaviour that he never stopped to consider why Murayama would come all this way for food. Regardless of how amazing Murayama thought the food was, there were at least ten other places that were half the price near Oya high that he could go. Thankfully, Todoroki wasn’t as intelligent as he preached. That, or he knew the consequences that would befall him if he so much as spoke about what suspicions he might have regarding the visits to Itokan.

Shuffling quietly, Murayama seats himself across from Cobra, sipping sporadically from his drink. He doesn’t even remember which drink he’d asked Naomi for, just wanting something to occupy himself with. He is trying to remember vaguely what Ranmaru had told him what seemed like days but was actually just an hour or so ago.

“ _You tell him however the fuck you feel comfortable telling him_ , _if it’s not genuine for you, chances are it won’t be for him. Don’t try to be someone or something you’re not.”_

Murayama wishes he knew what the hell he could possibly try to be. He’d been trying to make advances without false pretences for what seemed to be forever now and _that_ wasn’t working. He wonders what it is that Cobra might want to hear that he’s not been told one hundred times. A guy like him has probably had countless confessions and compliments and Murayama hates that he can’t relate.

As Ranmaru-san had said, there was no point half-assing it.

“Hey, Cobra-chan, are you busy this afternoon?” He leans over the table to stare at Cobra, his head resting precariously on his hand.

Cobra pauses in his reading, looking up at Murayama with a slight curiosity that left Murayama lightheaded. Murayama feels slight relief when Cobra gives him a small, reassuring even if not intentionally so, smile.

“I’m not busy, no. Why do you ask?” He places his book delicately on the table, running his hand over the cover softly before returning his hands back to his lap. Murayama feels a burning jealousy towards the book momentarily, wondering why it is he can’t feel Cobra’s fingertips dancing across his skin so elegantly.

“I wanna take you out somewhere. Y’know, like, to go and eat,” he trails off momentarily before regaining the ability to speak, “or whatever.”

Cobra’s eyes crinkle slightly, Murayama unable to look away from his gaze, mesmerised by the way the dark of Cobra’s eyes still managed to twinkle so vividly. Cobra looks away nonchalantly, leaning his head backwards to rest on the back of the chair.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” He glances back in Murayama’s direction, giving him another smile.

For one worrying second, Murayama debates punching him. He had no right to look this fucking beautiful. It was borderline disrespectful.

“You do know I don’t mean like, in a heterosexual way, right?” Murayama blurts out, vaguely wondering how Ranmaru and Hyuga would react if they were viewing this right now. After all, he had asked them both for advice. Murayama shudders at the mental image of Hyuga’s face, he’d probably be cursing bloody murder whilst being forcibly restrained by Ranmaru in an attempt to beat Murayama for his stupidity.

Cobra laughs softly, sitting upright and running a hand through his hair. Murayama commits this to memory, thinking it’s probably one of several things Cobra has done that he thinks is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Murayama should probably be concerned that Cobra is laughing at him, but he supposes it’s better than outright disgust. Although Murayama can’t help but note he’s never seen Cobra ever treat someone with outright disgust and is always willing to see the best in people. Vaguely, Murayama is annoyed for the billionth time today at just how perfect Cobra really is.

“I assumed you didn’t mean it that way.” Cobra replies, his voice always so deep it lulled Murayama into a relaxation he never had elsewhere, always wanting to move around and never wanting to be still and let it all catch up with him.

Cobra leans over the table slightly, carefully touching Murayama’s hand in a way that made his breath hitch, watching Cobra’s thumb brush over the back of his hand was borderline hypnotic, Cobra’s shy smile even more so.

“You were worried, weren’t you?” He questions gently, not ceasing in his touching of Murayama’s hand, “You have no reason to be worried.”

“I’m not worried, Cobra-chan,” Murayama realises his voice is slightly hoarse, no doubt from lack of proper breathing, “I know you’re too nice to reject me outright.”

The sound of the door slamming open makes Murayama jump a little, Cobra’s reassuring grip on his hand soothing him. Yamato barges in, shouting about how hungry he was to Naomi. Murayama assumes this is the moment Cobra will drop his hand on the table and go back to his book like nothing had happened. _It wouldn’t be the worst rejection_ , Murayama thinks.

The hand remains holding his, Cobra’s thumb not ceasing in it’s tracing over the back of Murayama’s shaking hand. Murayama wonders why the prospect of people seeing him like this with Cobra makes him so nervous. So _scared_. He supposes it’s because he expects rejection from not only Cobra but those around him. They are all protective of each other in Sannoh and Murayama knows he’s caused a fair amount of trouble with them in the past, particularly Chiharu, who they all love and adore. He’s started once again when Cobra stands up from his seat to slide next to the seat Murayama is currently slouched on, his thigh bumping against Murayama’s briefly.

“Stop looking so worried.” Cobra’s tone is almost stern, so much so that Murayama has to resist the urge to laugh at the fact he’s practically being scolded.

“Cobra-chan, I’m not worried. I’m just-,” Murayama sighs, staring at the ceiling exasperatedly before looking back to Cobra’s face that was now so close to his own, “I’m hardly experienced with these things.”

“And you think that I am?” Cobra moves some of Murayama’s hair from his face, brushing his thumb against Murayama’s cheek before gently holding Murayama’s chin, leaning in to kiss him softly. Murayama whines slightly, pulling Cobra forward by gripping onto his shirt, revelling in the way Cobra held his cheek with one hand and his hip with the other so effortlessly. Murayama wonders if it’s worth coming back up for air. Nothing will ever compare to this, for him.

“I’M TRYING TO EAT!” Yamato yells over his bowl of ramen, food spraying everywhere as he slams the bowl down on the counter. Naomi smacks him so hard his face is almost momentarily pushed into the bowl, a loud yelp following.

“What the hell, Naomi?” Yamato hisses, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t be such a dick. Your mum wants to speak to you anyway,” She scolds, pulling him by his ear to the door, “so let’s go.”

She turns to give Cobra a small wink before manhandling a protesting Yamato to the door, the sounds of whining and then one of their infamous arguments fading into the distance before the door shut behind them.

“Hey, Cobra-chan,” Murayama breaths near Cobra’s neck, kissing the exposed skin delicately, “how the fuck have you got no experience?”

Cobra lets out a small chuckle, nudging Murayama’s cheek affectionately before kissing his head. “Because I haven’t got much. I’ve been busy.”

Murayama is just settling beside Cobra comfortably, head resting on his shoulder, when the door opens again. Two flashes of red bound across the floor of Itokan, a whir of words and swearing coming out.

“If you hurt him I fucking swear-,”

Cobra and Murayama in equal confusion finally spot the two culprits, an enraged looking Hyuga and a disgruntled Ranmaru. Cobra twitches at the sight of the latter, his eyes narrowing, as though looking for the possibility of confrontation. Murayama squeezes his hand.

“What’s wrong, Hyuga-chan?” He singsongs, looking between Ranmaru and Hyuga, Ranmaru who looks more pissed by the second.

“I told you we couldn’t trust those morons.” Ranmaru spits, staring daggers into Hyuga’s head. “I _told_ you it was bullshit!”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know, Ranmaru? Cut the shit.” Hyuga growls, walking towards the table Cobra and Murayama were comfortably seated at with a certain vigour. Murayama can’t help but smile at the way Cobra remains leaned back with Murayama’s head on his shoulder, not removing his arm from around Murayama’s neck or his hand from Murayama’s thigh.

“What’s going on?” Cobra questions, looking more bemused than he did when they first entered.

“Those idiots of yours told us you were in trouble. The tall one and the retarded bald one.” Ranmaru sighs, looking at Murayama. “Apparently they saw you come in here and assumed you were going to be attacked.”

“They didn’t just _assume!_ ”, Hyuga seethes, staring wildly at Murayama, “they told us you’d been dragged in here and that you weren’t answering your phone!”

The hysterical laughter Murayama has been trying to hold in suddenly pours out, his entire body shaking with the force of his laughter. Every single time he attempts to look at Hyuga’s furious face it just becomes even funnier.

“I wasn’t looking at my phone because I was busy trying to use the advice you gave me.” Murayama manages to choke out, laughing into Cobra’s shoulder as Cobra gently strokes his hair.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m actually going to scalp them.” Hyuga turns to look at Ranmaru, eyes wild. “Let’s kill them.”

“Not that that doesn’t sound just _fantastic_ ,” Ranmaru teases, “you’re the one who was stupid enough to believe them. Come on, let’s go home.”

Ranmaru pulls Hyuga from his spot, or attempts to. Hyuga just seems to be further enraged by the spectacle, clearly seeing red after the reveal that he marched in here expecting Murayama to have been attacked by Cobra and his guys of all people. If Murayama didn’t know any better, he’d say Hyuga was embarrassed.

Ranmaru sighs loudly before standing in front of Hyuga and hoisting him up violently, hands under Hyuga’s thighs. Hyuga starts swearing softly but instantly wraps his arms around Ranmaru’s neck like a psychotic monkey, glaring over Ranmaru’s shoulder at Cobra as though this was all his fault.

“This isn’t the end of this!” He yells as Ranmaru just laughs to himself, walking them both out the door with a small tsk-ing noise.

“Well I guess I can never break up with you then?” Cobra muses, smiling at Murayama after giving him another kiss.

“Wait….Have you just asked me out without actually asking me?” Murayama whines, pulling Cobra into an aggressive cuddle.

“It’s not fair, Cobra-chan. You’re cool and you’re not even trying.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! I hope people enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, lol.   
> I'll probably never stop loving Ranmaru and Hyuga as gay dads, tbh.

**Author's Note:**

> Meh, I hope everyone enjoys reading this. I live for feedback so, feel free!


End file.
